


“It Only Matters If You’re Caught” by thereal_moriarty

by iriswallpaper



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chair Sex, DFP Sherlock, F/M, Infidelity, Kissing, Seduction, Sex in the Dark, Vaginal Sex, cheating with your best friend's girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriswallpaper/pseuds/iriswallpaper
Summary: Hellllooo, Sherlock fans - thereal_morairty here again. I hacked Iriswallpaper again because it's just so fun to play around with her account! Here's another little romp for Sherlock to add to my collectionthereal_moriarty collectionIt might appear that Iriswallpaper wrote it but be assured, it's Jim, The Real Moriarty, working hard to keep our favorite Consulting Detective satisfied between the sheets.





	“It Only Matters If You’re Caught” by thereal_moriarty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iwantthatcoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/gifts).



> In case you don't know what this fic refers to, see phqyd-roar’s tumblr post:  
> "AU where instead of a consulting criminal Moriarty is the internet’s most celebrated fanfic writer"  
> [thereal_moriarty](https://phqyd-roar.tumblr.com/post/161919525267/au-where-instead-of-a-consulting-criminal-moriarty)  
> Check it out - it’s hilarious.

“What’s wrong, Sarah? John’s snoring keeping you awake?”

Sarah jumped at the sound of a deep voice coming from the dark hallway. She’d slipped on John’s bathrobe and tried to be quiet as she came down to the living room. Sherlock was right - John’s snoring did make it hard for her to fall asleep. That, and the unfulfilled ache deep inside her pelvis. John was clever with tongue and finger but she needed _more_. And John hadn’t been able to deliver what she needed. It wasn’t the first time - she’d been consoling and understanding every time - but it had left her too on edge to sleep.

“Yep, that,” Sarah replied as Sherlock settled into the leather chair opposite the one where she sat with her feet curled underneath her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh, you didn’t wake me.” Sherlock’s voice rumbled from the dark silhouette opposite. “I heard you, upstairs with John. You two made quite a racket. Made it hard for me to fall asleep.”

Blushing, Sarah was glad she hadn't turned on a lamp. Of course she knew that John’s bedroom was over Sherlock’s. She thought they’d been quite. But then again, Sherlock seemed to have heightened senses and a superhuman sense of observation. Perhaps his hearing was super human, too. She made a conciliatory sound in her throat, for lack of anything better to reply.

The dark shape in front of her rose briefly then settled beside her chair, kneeling. “It’s quite allright. I know I’m not mistaken that John didn’t satisfy you. Right, Sarah?”

Cheeks flaming even hotter, Sarah nodded slightly. A warm hand covered her knee and squeezed gently.

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Sarah. And woman you are - all woman, sensual, confident. You know what you want. Don’t you, Sarah?” 

The voice had seemed to dropped another octave, silk over gravel, and seemed to reverberate in Sarah’s chest. Spellbound, Sarah gave another small nod. Another hand covered her other knee and both slid upwards, under John’s bathrobe, rubbing small circles in the suddenly-stretched-too-tight skin of Sarah’s thighs. 

“I can give you what you need, Sarah. I can give you what John leaves you aching for.” 

Sarah heard a wet sound followed by a slight pop - Sherlock licking his lips in the dark. She was filled with a sudden desire to feel those full, damp lips on her own. “Yes,” she breathed and leaned forward, uncurling her legs and wrapping them around Sherlock’s waist, meeting his lips with her own.

The sheet Sherlock had wrapped around himself before leaving his bedroom shifted under Sarah’s legs, dropping silently to the floor, leaving only warm skin against her thighs. She wiggled downward in the chair, lifting her hips to allow the bathrobe to slide up and leave her lower body uncovered. 

Sherlock leaned forward, pressing her against the back of the chair and parting her lips with his tongue. Momentarily distracted by the feeling of SHerlock's tongue against hers, Sarah didn’t notice when Sherlock untied the robe’s belt and opened the robe to expose her breasts. It became evident to Sarah when Sherlock dropped his head to lick and nip at her nipples, hands still caressing her thighs. A moan escaped her throat as Sarah’s hands slipped into Sherlock’s curls, pulling his mouth more firmly against her breast. A fleeting thought of her boyfriend, asleep in the upstairs bedroom, crossed her mind but a lap of Sherlock’s clever tongue against her breast caused the thought to fly out of the window.

Sherlock shifted to press his erection against Sarah’s mons. He lifted his mouth to Sarah’s throat to kiss and lick the creamy skin. “I want you,” he murmured against her jaw then placed a kiss just in front of her ear. Hips rocking, his hard cock slid against Sarah’s labia, spreading the dampness between her legs and grazing her clitoris. 

Sarah sucked in a loud breath. God, it felt so good but it was so _wrong_. How could she be on the verge of having sex with her boyfriend’s roommate, in her boyfriend’s _chair_? While her boyfriend snoozed, unaware, over their heads? But god, it felt so _right_. Too many nights of extended foreplay with John, too many nights that ended in frustration for both of them, of John trying to satisfy her by going down for hours when what she really wanted was him inside her, hard and thrusting…

...like Sherlock was now, pressing his rock-hard prick against her pubic bone, grinding into her clitoris until she squirmed and moaned. She wanted it, she wanted more - she wanted it _all_ \- and she wanted it _now_. All it took was snaking her hand between them, grasping Sherlock’s turgid penis, tilting her hips and _oh_! He was inside her, thrusting, panting, trying to continue their kiss with lips gone slack with pleasure. Sarah reached up and buried her hands in his hair again, pulling his face to her neck, arching up into him and groaning with pleasure.

Sherlock slipped his hands under Sarah’s thighs to hook her knees and lift them to his elbow, lifting her hips off the chair to give them both unobstructed pleasure. Hard and rough, thrusting fast, he fucked her like he wanted to make up for the weeks she’d been taken to the edge then abruptly jerked back by John’s inability to see things through. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from how _good_ it felt to fuck this beautiful woman, how smooth her thighs felt against his arms, how her breasts swayed with each of his thrusts, the delicious sounds she made. He was determined to keep it up all night if that’s what it took to finally get her off. He’d heard them, in John’s room above his, at least two nights a week for the past several weeks. The sound that had been conspicuously absent during those nights was bedsprings, squeaking in a regular rhythm. And when he’d heard Sarah creep down the stairs tonight, he’d made up his mind to take things into his own hands. Well, not _hands_ \- John had certainly tried that enough - he’d made up his mind to give this gorgeous woman the thorough fucking she deserved.

It seemed he’d met his goal. Sarah arched up into him, pressing her body tightly against his, clutching his hair as she held her breath and shuddered. Small sounds escaped her throat and Sherlock wished he’d turned on a light so he could see her O face. The delicious feeling of her vagina spasming around him made up for the lack of visual and he bit his cheek again to keep from losing his rhythm before her orgasm was complete. 

Only when Sarah released her death grip on his curls and took a deep breath did Sherlock bury his face in her long, silky hair, lift her thighs even tighter against her and give in to his body’s need for release. With a few final jerky thrusts, he came with a groan.

Silently, Sherlock withdrew and sat back on his haunches and swathed himself in the sheet that was pooled around his feet. Cloth rustled in the dark as Sarah sat up and pulled the bathrobe around her. Both stood without a word, each opening their arms to the other spontaneously. 

Sarah laid her head against Sherlock's chest and breathed in his sex-scent for a few quiet moments. When she lifted her face, Sherlock placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“Our secret,” he whispered.

“Our secret,” she echoed.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn you, Jim! Stay out of my account!


End file.
